


A Promise to the Stars

by ShadowThorne



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bonnie & Clyde, M/M, Modern Day, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 02:23:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1762829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowThorne/pseuds/ShadowThorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grimmjow and Ichigo run away together, but it’s not about the name they’ve made for themselves, nor the reputation they’ll leave behind. It’s not even about the money. It’s just them, young and in love and making the most of what they have. Oneshot. GrimmIchi. Inspired by the tale of Bonnie & Clyde. Rated for violent themes and character death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Promise to the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Important! This is not a happy story. It does not have a happy ending. That being said, it's a short, sweet little oneshot and I hope you'll give it a try nonetheless.
> 
> Enjoy~

They seemed like such an odd couple; one a high school drop out, the other a devoted student that had graduated college with honors and a PhD. He’d wanted to be a surgeon. He’d wanted to help people. He’d been offered a job straight out of college, but turned it down, wasted the opportunity. All for a boy, a boy that had never even finished high school.

‘I know you’re young, Ichigo,’ His father had said, shaking his head in that fatherly way older men are want to do when they think they know more than you. ‘and I know he’s handsome and exciting. But son, that boy is trouble.’

Well, his father had been right.

Somewhere between studying and homework and worrying over his career and his future, somewhere within all the stress and fatigue, Ichigo had fallen for a young man with crazy blue hair and crazier, bluer eyes. Grimmjow had changed his life in every way. There’d been talk of getting out of their little hometown, running away and never looking back. Ichigo had laughed, and played into the silly fantasy. He’d been so in love so early on.

Those chaotic grins and handsome features, the deep, rumbling voice as Grimmjow would sing, just for him to hear and no one else. Pretty words and promises of grandeur, of something more than what lay in front of them. Grimmjow had a way about him, an air of confidence, like the world sat in the palm of his hand and all he had to do was say it to make it so. Ichigo had bought into it. Anyone would have. But Grimmjow had chosen him, had claimed that no one else would do. He said he loved Ichigo, and Ichigo knew it for truth.

Late at night, when Ichigo should have been sleeping, should have been resting so that he could be up early for classes, they would climb up onto the roof of the apartment building Grimmjow lived in. They’d bring a blanket with them and Ichigo would steal Grimmjow’s shoulder for a place to rest his head and they would look up at the stars. No walls in sight, nothing to hinder their imaginations, they’d told many a story and conjured even more ideas; ways to change the world, ways to change their world. Ways to make each other happy.

It was a silly thought, really, another pretty fantasy, but that’s how all things large and small begin; as nothing but a thought. Run away, he’d said, somewhere far far away where they could be anyone or anything. But Ichigo had school to finish, a life to start, things expected of him. Grimmjow had shrugged below his head, the smile on his features wistful, like the stars called to him. But he’d never leave Ichigo’s side. He’d promised, and Ichigo had believed him. ‘After, then.’

‘Ok.’ It’d been such a pretty idea. ‘After.’

Grimmjow had attended Ichigo’s graduation. There was so much pride in his feral grin and before the ceremony, he tugged Ichigo into a dark hallway of the campus and pulled his silly graduation cap from atop all that ridiculous, beautiful orange hair. Ichigo was certain his lip bled from how hard, how passionately Grimmjow had bit him but the kiss had been bone melting. It’d been a promise, a declaration. It might as well have been written in stone and it was sure as hell etched into Ichigo’s bones. Forever, it said, forever until the end.

‘I’ll see you on the other side.’ Grimmjow had promised, with one last kiss so contrastingly soft Ichigo had shivered. Then they’d parted and Grimmjow had taken his time in easing back into the room to find his seat and await his lover’s big moment. Ichigo had scurried back to where his classmates were waiting, hidden behind a curtain and nervous. But he was nervous for reasons different from theirs.

Sometimes, pretty ideas and fantastical promises stir the soul. Sometimes they find root and they grow and they branch out until they’re all consuming. Sometimes, it’s real. 

Ichigo had been so in love. 

He still was, seven months later and on the run.

Their first brush with the law happened on the fourth week after they’d run away together, after they’d severed all ties with Ichigo’s father and put their hometown behind them, Ichigo’s future as a doctor with it.

For the longest time, it had all been just as silly as all their childish, naive promises. One thing led to another, though, a spiraling effect that was dizzying and invigorating. It started simply enough. Like he just couldn’t control himself, Grimmjow used those hands that could hold the world, and twenty minutes later, the people they would pass on the street would find that they were missing wallets, phones, cash, whatever they happened to leave in unguarded pockets. Smooth and practiced at it, Ichigo hadn’t even noticed Grimmjow had been pickpocketing at first. It wasn’t until he found the man munching on a candy bar as they walked. The crinkle of the plastic wrapper hadn’t really registered, but, as they walked down the sidewalk side by side, Grimmjow offered his companion a bite and Ichigo had a sweet tooth.

It was the sweetest chocolate Ichigo had ever tasted. So was the twenty bucks they put in the gas tank that evening.

It had started small, you see, simple, harmless even. A few bucks here and there, a watch. No one got hurt.

But almost a month later, with no jobs and running low on cash, things changed. They got bigger.

“It’s fine, Grimmjow, it was fun while it lasted.” Ichigo pushed a smile on his features, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Long, boring drives weren’t really his idea of fun, but they were good for sleeping while Grimmjow took the wheel. Sometimes he’d turn the radio on after he thought Ichigo had fallen asleep, and Ichigo would drift in and out to the sound of the man’s voice. So it wasn’t a lie, as he swung his legs around to stand from the passenger seat and stretch his arms above his head. “I have a degree still, you know. We could pick a city we like and I could get a job.”

Grimmjow snorted and leaned against the side of the beat up, old four-door he was filling the tank of. “That really what you want? After running away with me? You wanted to get all the way out here, to do the exact thing we set out to avoid?”

Ichigo sighed, his smile turning downward. “Well, no…”

A car pulled in at the pump across from them, shining yellow paint glaring harshly in the harsher sun. It was a nice car, something much newer than theirs. Something much faster.

“Then don’t give up on me yet.” Grimmjow rumbled, turned to drop his elbow on the top of his car, and look at Ichigo across it. And there, on his handsome features, was that same smirk that had gotten Ichigo into this mess in the first place. There was so much sin in that expression, so much promise. It held all the answers. To everything.

Sighing, Ichigo laughed a small but genuine sound and shook his head as if exasperated. “I used to be such a smart, logical kid. What have you done to me, Grimmjow?”

The bigger man barked a laugh and turned back to putting gas in his tank. “Black magic, babe. You should have known not to play with boys like me.” Then blue eyes landed on that pretty little yellow sports car as the owner shut the pump off and headed toward the station to pay. “Nice car.” He called out to the owner.

The owner nodded a quick thanks, glanced at Grimmjow’s beat up old vehicle, and chuckled as he hurried by. Fast cars for fast people. Well, Grimmjow always had been good at coming up with pretty little ideas.

“Get your bag out of the trunk, Ichi.” All it took was one look. One look at those bright blue eyes and Ichigo knew exactly what was coming. Black magic? Maybe that wasn’t so far from the truth, since such a smart young man with a bright and promising future was throwing it all away for a boy with a rotten streak and a silver tongue.

Ichigo glanced at the yellow car, then back to Grimmjow and the sinful grin on his handsome features, and decided that yellow was not his color, but the car was definitely his type. They could always have it painted. With a grin of his own, Ichigo ducked into their crappy vehicle and tugged free the few things they’d brought with them, all packed away into a single bag.

“Get in,” As Grimmjow rounded his car toward the gas station, he nodded toward their new one, smirking an expression he only ever showed to Ichigo. Drunk on it, Ichigo headed toward their new ride, a bag slung over his shoulder. 

Ichigo watched as his partner disappeared through the doors of the gas station, then reached in through the car’s open window to unlock the doors. He didn’t hesitate to toss the bag into the backseat, then climb into the passenger side. Reaching across, he opened the driver’s door, and waited.

Not even thirty seconds later, Grimmjow strolled from the station with a wicked grin, and pulled from his pocket a brand new set of keys. He twirled them on his finger as he confidently made his way to his new ride.

A screech of tires and the gunning of a supped up engine announced their getaway. It would become Ichigo’s favorite sound soon enough. Next to Grimmjow’s singing and barking laughter, anyway. That engine was freedom, life. Sitting in the passenger seat next to the man he loved, it became home. 

It took the owner of the car a good ten minutes to figure out what was going on. On his way from the station, he confusedly searched for his keys and thought to himself that he’d surely stuck them in his pocket. Exiting the station, he stood in stunned silence and searched for his car. It was only when he found the beat up, old vehicle sitting empty that he ran back inside to call the cops.

At a small gas station on the outskirts of a desert city, they worked their first real heist. Together, they drove into the sunset at ninety miles an hour as flashing lights gathered on the horizon behind them.

That night, with the money they’d been originally going to put into the gas tank of the car they left behind, they rented a cheap motel. The bed was old and had seen it’s fair share of weary travelers, but at least it wasn’t the back seat of a crappy little car. Grimmjow and Ichigo, still reveling in the high of their freedom, put it to good use.

That next morning, with a sweet kiss and sweeter promise, Ichigo convinced his partner to let him drive for a while. His eagerness and lingering excitement was reward enough for Grimmjow and they both knew, no words spoken about it between them, that this would not be the last time. They’d crossed a line and suddenly the rules truly didn’t seem to apply to them. The limitations imposed on those around them were washed clean, wiped away. They’d crossed a line and there was no going back, not after the taste they got.

That one car was just the start. Adrenaline was more potent than any drug, but just like a drug, it wore off eventually.

The car had since been painted, yellow covered with shining, metal flecked black. Twin, electric blue stripes now ran the length of the hood. At first, ichigo had tried to convince Grimmjow to pick something with a lower profile, something less obvious that didn’t stand out so sharply, but after they put several hundred miles and more than a few cities between them and that shitty little gas station, what was the harm? No one knew them, or knew of what they’d done. The guy who’s car they’d stolen had probably collected on his insurance and upgraded to something even nicer. Win/win.

The idea of picking a place and settling was only very briefly discussed. Laying upon the hood of Grimmjow’s new car, they looked up at the night sky the way they had done so many times before. Parked on the side of a back country, deserted road, they might as well have been up on the roof of a shitty little apartment building, but not being surrounded by the walls that had once closed them in made all the difference. There was no more pretending that they were free. It was real. 

Grimmjow absently hummed along to some tune scrolling through his head, the fingers of one hand drumming against the hood to help him keep beat. It was wordless, a deep, rumbling bass. It was beautiful.

Ichigo smiled, head against the bigger man’s shoulder. The arm wrapped around him was warm and solid. No, he decided, this was the only kind of settling down they would ever do. He knew that if he should tell Grimmjow he wanted a real house, a job, something normal, Grimmjow would have went along with it. He would have dropped all his fantastical ideas, all his crazy desires. For all his pretty ideas, all his wild nature, he’d promised. He’d never leave Ichigo’s side and Ichigo believed him.

They’d been so young and so in love and the world sat in the palms of their hands, shared between them.

“Stick with me, Ichi, you’ll see.” Grimmjow promised, musing under the stars. The heavens were his witness. The world held his vow. “We’ll make it.”

“Make what?” Ichigo asked, a small but lovely little smile on his lips. He crossed his arm over his chest and brushed warm fingertips against Grimmjow’s hand where it settled against his arm. “I didn’t realize we had a real goal.”

Grimmjow shrugged a bit, his grin only growing to flash teeth in the dark. Starlight sparkled in blue eyes. “Anything. Everything.” He proclaimed. Then he sat up, untangling himself from his other half. Ichigo was his everything. He wrapped tight their fingers and pulled Ichigo to his feet as well. “Whatever you want, babe, we’ll make it happen.” More pretty words as he pulled Ichigo close, wrapped muscled arms around the smaller’s lithe waist. Their lips brushed as he spoke in that rumbling voice of his, “Fame, fortune. You want it, it’s yours. Cars, diamonds, an empire. Just name it.”

“What I want already stands before me.” Ichigo whispered back, nothing but truth in his words.

The bigger man chuckled a soft sound, rested his forehead against Ichigo’s and dropped his hands to trim hips. The touch was as gentle as it was suggestive, as careful as it was firm.“You’re more a prize than I am, Ichigo.” He shook his head and closed his eyes, simply enjoying their closeness and the perfect emptiness around them. 

Ichigo laughed and framed handsome features with his elegant fingers. He whispered, “Black magic, Love.” and pressed his lips to Grimmjow’s.

Smiling into the kiss, Grimmjow hoisted the smaller up, and Ichigo wrapped long legs around his waist.

It hadn’t been just Ichigo. They were both so in love. With each other, with the world, with all their pretty fantasies and prettier ideas. Trouble, his father had said, but trouble was just a monicker, a hint of what they sought. Trouble was one way to see it, an adventure was better; excitement and thrill and blood pumping life. Young and in love, nothing seemed out of reach.

Seven months later and on the run, it would seem they’d been right.

••••••

A gunshot ripped through the air. Frightened screams and horrified gasps followed the echoes as the people gathered around ducked away, flinched for cover. No one dared stand though, not after the gunman had demanded they stay down. A brimmed hat was tugged down over the culprit’s head of chaotic blue hair, but it was more for effect than an attempt to hide his identity. People knew him. People knew his name, and that’s the way he liked it.

A grin spread wide across the lower portion of handsome, angular features and blue eyes shown, bright and alive, from the shadows under the hat’s brim. Grimmjow was a hard man to mistake for anyone else.

The gun in his hand didn’t waver, didn’t shake. His hold wasn’t awkward or tight. There was an ease to everything he did, even as he swung the barrel around to face the bank teller. Tears streaked the woman’s face as she held her hands up in a classic pose of surrender. For show, Grimmjow reached up with his free hand and pulled the hat from his head, giving the teller a grin that weakened knees for too many reasons.

Sighing a wistful, bemused sound, Ichigo shook his head slightly and watched the show his partner put on. It was a truly wonderful performance. Dressed dapper, with the silk sleeves of his button up rolled nearly to his elbows and his long legs clad in dark, rich fabric, Grimmjow painted a pretty picture. Like the villain from a movie. They’d already taken over nearly every major news station in the country, Ichigo mused, maybe a movie wasn’t so out of the question. They’d come a long way since the times of whispering promises in the dark of quiet nights and wishing they could run away from it all.

Grimmjow’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“No heroes today, friends.” He rumbled, voice nearing a rough, grating growl. Downright sinful. “Your cash is insured by your lovely government, so you wont be out a penny. Let’s refrain from getting people hurt, shall we?”

Those pretty words again, Grimmjow could convince anyone to do anything if he really wanted to. He had that way about him, a natural air that snagged hold of those around him and didn’t let go until they fed from his palm and he was done with them.

Ichigo glanced down at his watch, then looked back up to meet frigid, lively blue eyes. A small nod and Grimmjow’s grin widened all the further. He sauntered over to the bank teller and it was a miracle the terrified woman didn’t faint dead away.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He asked, voice quiet, almost soft. She wore a name tag, like all customer service employees did, but getting her to talk was Grimmjow’s entire point. When she told him in a trembling voice, he paid no attention, already moving to his next line like a well rehearsed play. “What a pretty name,” He mused, and it really was convincing, “Listen, sweetheart, you’re gonna open that vault for me, because if I’m not outta here by the time I hear sirens, I’m going to start killing people.” He nodded gravely, slowly, like it was truly a tragedy. “I know you already hit that little button when we walked in, which means we don’t have much time, and you don’t want to be responsible for the death of innocent people, do you?”

When she only stood there in stunned terror, Grimmjow’s expression turned more serious, more murderous. “You’re on the clock.” He reminded, practically snarling. To further his point, he used his thumb to pull back the hammer of the gun in his hand.

The woman flinched at the small sound and began fumbling with a set of keys.

“That’s a good girl.” Grimmjow praised. His gaze swept back over to Ichigo, who stood not far away, a gun in hand but held far less aggressively than Grimmjow’s. The smaller male smiled an almost gentle expression and quirked a single brow. Grimmjow chuckled, and turned back to the business at hand.

Behind him, the crowd remained still and quiet, terrified as seemingly cold brown eyes swept over them. It was all for show, all for fun. Gas stations and connivance stores were so much easier to rob, and they’d already made a fortune on their way across the country. The occasional bank, like now, was just to spice things up, really. A game. It kept their names prominent, made sure everyone in the country knew of them. They were famous. Celebrities of the criminal world.

The woman was still fumbling with the keys, searching for the right one, when the first piercing siren shrieked through the air, muted by distance and city buildings. She gasped and nearly dropped the key ring. Grimmjow smiled down at her sadly and tsked. Then, spinning on his heel, he lashed out with the suddenness expected from a madman. 

He snagged hold of the nearest person huddled very nearly at his feet. He dragged the young lady to her feet, yanked her around so that she was facing the bank teller and employee was forced to stare the woman in the eye. 

Behind him, a man lurched to his feet. “No, no! Please, my wife-”

Grimmjow pivoted, gun held in an outstretched hand, and fired before the citizen could get within arms reach. “What a gentleman,” He praised, grip tight on the young lady’s upper arm as he turned back to the bank teller. “taking his wife’s place. You’re a lucky lady.” He pulled the hostage close, pressed the barrel of the gun between her ribs, right up underneath of her arm. “About that cash, miss.”

Behind him, the man he’d shot laid bleeding out on the floor of the bank, a bullet in his chest. His wife cried, shaking where she was held against her husband’s killer. 

As the sirens grew louder, speeding through crowded streets as quickly as possible, the teller finally managed to open the outer door to the safe. The door that actually led to where the cash was stored was locked with a combination. The woman didn’t have the numbers, as the two criminals knew she wouldn’t, but Ichigo stepped up to it and pulled a small, black charge from a bag slung over one shoulder. He affixed it to the lock as Grimmjow faced the crowd, a grin on his features and his gun to his hostage’s side.

Ichigo half huddled against his partner as the charge detonated, shielding himself from the short, but loud blast. Then he stood up on his toes and placed a sweet kiss against Grimmjow’s cheek, a smile tugging at his boyish features. 

As he turned to hurry back to the opened vault, Grimmjow’s rumbling voice followed him. “See you on the other side, babe.”

“Don’t be late this time, Grimm.” He smiled all the wider, truly enjoying himself, and walked backward into the vault as he spoke, “If you make me worry like last time, I might just call the cops on you myself.”

Grimmjow barked a laugh as Ichigo spun and began filling his bag with stacks of cash. “Ya hear that?” He half roared to the crowd in the bank, gaining everyone’s attention again, “Better cooperate or I’ll be forced to take drastic measures.” He walked his hostage closer toward the front entrance, all eyes on him and the gun in his hand. “The sooner we’re outta here, the sooner you can all get on with your lives, and the sooner the paramedics can tend to our hero.”

Ichigo was done and out a side entrance before the police even made it to the bank. Everyone’s attention sufficiently diverted to Grimmjow, no one noticed what direction he’d chosen or where he’d headed.

“We’re gonna play a game,” Grimmjow announced. He wasn’t completely without heart though. The young lady held close was still shaking, still crying, but she was hardly paying attention to him. He knew that, should their positions have been reversed and it had been Ichigo laying on the floor bleeding out, he would have gotten himself killed just to get to his lover’s side. So he turned the girl around to face him and gave her a stern, serious look. “and you’re going to help me.”

Frightened, she stared up at him with wide eyes and started to shake her head in refusal, or maybe just out of confusion. The situation was hectic and overwhelming, Grimmjow understood.

“You are.” He reaffirmed, leaving no room for debate, “And the quicker this goes, the sooner the police will have someone in here to help your man.” Blue eyes flickered toward the wounded man. His face had gone pale, breathing strained. The bullet hole in his chest bubbled with each breath. The man wouldn’t make it, Grimmjow knew a critical bullet wound when he saw one. But the wife didn’t need to know that. “He might still live yet, if we’re fast. Understand?”

The woman nodded, whispering quietly, “Anything, anything…” over and over.

Grimmjow smiled down at her, and turned her back around. She played accomplice to his get away, only half unwilling as she took the gun he passed to her in her hands. It wasn’t loaded, Grimmjow wasn’t stupid enough to hand his hostage a weapon that could kill him. But she didn’t know that, nor did the other civilians he had her pointing the gun at. He and Ichigo had learned early on, before they made it up to bank robberies; desperation was a wonderful thing to exploit.

By the time armed police surrounded the bank and a unit swarmed in, Grimmjow and Ichigo were gone and two were dead, the husband and his wife. One succumbed to wounds caused by the robbers, the other by a police bullet as they saw the gun in her hands only to later realize it was unloaded and she’d been forced to do it. There was little point in lifting prints from the weapon, nor reviewing the security cameras. Witness testimony was enough to ID the culprits.

The infamous duo had struck again, upping their body count to nine confirmed. The string of gas station and store robberies had marked their path from one side of the country to the other, but it’d seemed they’d moved on to bigger and more dangerous things. Small cash registers had lost their appeal, and this heist marked their second bank in what would be a long line.

When Grimmjow made his way to where they’d agreed to meet afterward, Ichigo was already waiting for him, as he should have been. They left the car parked not far away, but hidden in a run down back alley out of the way and hidden from the main streets. After scouting the area for days prior, Grimmjow had dropped his lover and partner off at the bank, left to the hide their getaway vehicle nearby but unobtrusively, and casually walked down the street in plain view, to the bank. By the time he got there, Ichigo had already assured there would be no decent security or other measures to give them trouble, and the heist was underway nearly the moment Grimmjow stepped through the doors.

Ichigo turned to him as he approached, a wide, happy smile lifting kissable lips and a hint of an excited flush to boyishly handsome features. A mostly unassuming black canvas bag was slung over his shoulder, weighed down with the fruits of their work; cash to last a lifetime if they wanted it to. But it wasn’t about the money, not really. 

The black bag, tied off to keep the contents safely tucked within, dropped to the ground with a dull but solid thump as Ichigo approached his larger lover. There was a grin on handsome, angular features and pleased, confident swagger in Grimmjow’s step.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful, babe.” Grimmjow purred out with a slight shake of his head. As he did, Ichigo threw his arms around his neck. He growled into the kiss, biting down on the soft, plump skin of Ichigo’s lip. When long, lean legs wrapped around his waist and the smaller’s weight tugged him a step forward, he went with it. Practically falling into the car’s side, he pressed Ichigo against it, soothing his tongue over the bite he’d left. Ichigo shuddered in his hold.

“Grimmjow-” Half gasped, the word was barely there as Ichigo’s hands tightened in thick, blue hair.

“Anything.” The bigger man automatically agreed, head dipping to coast teeth along Ichigo’s collarbone. There was no need to wait and hear what Ichigo would ask of him or tell him. Anything. He would do anything for his love.

Ichigo groaned under the attention, legs wound tight around cut hips. The muscle pressed against him was a temptation he could hardly deny. Had never been able to deny. “We shouldn’t do this here…”

“You always say that…” Grimmjow chuckled, a smirk on his features as he trailed hot lips and hotter breaths along the column of his partner’s neck. Fingers coasted not quite gently through his hair, before nails dragged down the back of his neck. “Just once?”

“We just robbed a bank-”

“I know.” Growled, the bigger man’s voice was husky and thick, rougher even than usual. 

That tone alone was enough to have a shiver sliding down Ichigo’s spine, even as he continued, “-there will be cops all over the place. It’s not safe here…” He ran his fingers back up Grimmjow’s neck, into his hair again. Gripping harshly, he tugged back and hummed an almost hungry sound when his lover arched with the force, baring the tan, vulnerable skin of his throat. 

White teeth flashed but the low intake of air proved that Grimmjow enjoyed the roughness. 

Unwinding his legs, Ichigo managed to get his feet back under him, stood on his toes, and yanked Grimmjow’s head down to his level. He whispered against the bigger man’s lips, “Get us out of here, then we can celebrate.” before kissing him like his life depended on it. 

Maybe it did. Maybe he would die if he didn’t taste and feel the man he burned so hotly for. Grimmjow was like air, life fire. Grimmjow had changed his entire world.

When the smaller pulled away, Grimmjow half growled and nipped at his jawline, before digging in his pocket for the keys. He’d never go against Ichigo’s wishes, no matter his mood or disposition. Ichigo was his everything. Anything Ichigo wanted, with a single word, Ichigo could have. “Get in the car, babe.” He rumbled, taking a backward step, before turning to round the front of the vehicle. He stooped to grab the forgotten bag on his way by.

A screech of tires and the gunning of a powerful engine announced as the murdering duo made good on their getaway. Tinted windows rolled up and keeping their features hidden from the civilians around, they raced through the streets and fled the city, prize tossed into the backseat half forgotten.

Early the next morning, as the alarm clock in the cheap motel they’d crashed in not quite an hour outside of the city they’d left shattered the predawn silence, Grimmjow grumbled a drowsy, unhappy sound and rolled over. It took him a few seconds of listening to the horrible whine of the alarm to find the switch to quiet it. He mumbled a curse under his breath and rolled back over, burying himself against the man in bed with him. He pressed his features into soft, orange hair and breathed deep as he looped an arm tightly around Ichigo’s middle, quickly getting comfortable again. 

After a few long, drawn out minutes in which his mind struggled between waking up and going back to sleep, Grimmjow finally muttered against the side of Ichigo’s head, “We need to get up.” but didn’t move.

Ichigo rolled to face him, tucking his head under the bigger man’s chin and curling against his chest. The worn down mattress creaked quietly as he moved. He brought his knee up a bit, tangled his leg between Grimmjow’s and settled back down again. “The sun’s not even up yet.” He mumbled back, also comfortable again.

Grimmjow only wrapped about him all the tighter, perfectly content to never move, never leave the crappy bed they were sharing, never leave the outdated motel, despite the odd hint of something unpleasant smelling. Could he stay right there, tangled in long limbs and sweat stained sheets that smelled of the night he and his lover had enjoyed for the rest of his days, he would have.

“That’s the point, babe, we gotta get moving before they figure out we’re not in the city anymore.” Very slowly, he started extracting himself from Ichigo’s warmth and comfort. He managed to make it half upright, propping himself on one elbow, before Ichigo’s arms snaked around his middle and tightened. Chuckling, he tossed the sheets from himself, careful to leave them tangled around Ichigo’s naked form. Then, leaning forward a bit, he brushed orange hair from his way and pressed a surprisingly tender kiss to his sleepy lover’s brow. In a quiet voice he asked, “You want a shower before we get going?”

“Mmm.” Ichigo smiled a bit, and loosened the hold he held on his partner. “Yeah.” He half whispered, finally prying sleep heavy eyes open, “better, or I’ll never be able to wake up.”

Grimmjow chuckled and kissed him again, “You go first, then, since we probably wont have much hot water.” As Ichigo finished unhooking his arms from around his middle, the bigger man, finished sitting up. Stretching as he did, he ran a hand back through his mussed hair, and took his time in actually climbing to his feet to stand naked in the middle of the shitty little motel room.

They could have easily afforded to find nicer hotels to stay their nights at, but after robbing banks and cash registers, it seemed safer to pick a cheap, sleazy place. After all, with all that fresh cash, it seemed too obvious to stay in a more expensive place. So they chose little hole in the wall places, run down and desolate, and paid cash for a single night. All they really needed was a bed and running water, after all, everything else they brought with them. The only thing they needed to make a space truly comfortable was each other.

As Grimmjow strode naked across the small space, Ichigo finally pushed back the sheets and sat up. He let his gaze stray the expanse of smooth, tan skin, etching into his memory the way the dramatic, predawn light that slipped through the curtains played off the strong muscle of his lover’s back and shoulders, the way it highlighted Grimmjow’s every subtle move and made elegant his already beautiful form.

A pretty little smile on his features, Ichigo swung his legs over the side of the bed and arched in a stretch, groaning quietly at the pleasant feel of the muscle in his back and torso loosening up. After a night like they’d just had, a hot shower would do his body well before a long car ride. “You’re so good to me, love.”

“After last night, I feel like I should be the one saying that.” Grimmjow grinned, let out a low chuckle.

Ichigo’s features flushed a warm shade, but he stood from the bed, leaving it in chaotic disarray from their activities the night prior. There was a subtle lewdness to the way he walked as he crossed the small space between them in even, elegant strides, five feet and eleven inches of lean, mouth watering muscle and smooth, creamy skin. When he stood directly in front of his taller partner, not even an inch of cool air between them, he smiled up and suggested, “You know, we could share the hot water…”

Grimmjow barked a laugh, trailing gentle fingertips down the backs of Ichigo’s arms. “We’d never get moving.” Then he turned Ichigo back around and gave an even more gentle nudge toward the dingy little bathroom. The view was a pleasing one, to say the least, and he only turned back to finding the clothing he’d stripped from in a rush the night before when Ichigo had closed the door behind himself.

It didn’t take Ichigo long to shower, and when he got out, Grimmjow had yanked on a pair of boxers and gathered the few things they’d bothered pulling from their bags. The cash they’d lifted had been counted last night, sometime between their first and second testing of the mattress they eventually fell asleep on. Most of it was already tucked safely away in a case when Ichigo strolled over to his partner, wet haired and still shirtless. What wasn’t added to the case was deposited between Ichigo’s and Grimmjow’s wallets, so that both would have enough spending money without having to dig through a locked briefcase heaping with green in front of other people.

“Your turn,” Ichigo trailed a hand low across Grimmjow’s bare back as he walked up to his side and draped a towel over one of the man’s broad shoulders. “I’ll finish up and start loading the car.”

“Alright.” Grabbing the towel, the bigger man headed toward the bathroom next, “Be careful. I don’t like how that creep at the front office was lookin’ at you last night.”

Ichigo smiled at his lover’s concern, and, more for Grimmjow’s peace of mind than his own, grabbed his handgun from the night stand. He checked the clip and the safety, then tucked it into the waistband at the back of his pants before he pulled his shirt on to hide it. It was enough to satisfy the bigger man, and Grimmjow nodded to him slightly, before disappearing into the bathroom to shower and ready for their day.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ichigo and Ichigo’s ability to take care of himself. Far from it, in fact. But he didn’t trust others, and he didn’t underestimate them either, not when it came to what was most important to him. He’d hand over all the money they had, cut the very heart from his chest without second thought, so long as it kept Ichigo safe.

Ichigo knew that, and understood it. Grimmjow told him as much in everything the bigger man said and did. It was written in his every little touch, his every pretty word and all the little gestures he showed only to Ichigo.

Grimmjow’s shower was equally as quick. They didn’t have much time to waste, not when they lived a life on the move. They’re entire existence hinged on them staying a step ahead of those around them, literally and figuratively. The police, the civilians they passed in the streets, the driver of the car stopped at the red light beside them, store clerks, motel managers, restaurant waitresses; everyone.

Dressed in a fresh change of clothing, Grimmjow left the cheap little motel behind, dropped the key off at the front desk, and met Ichigo out at the car. He grinned a wicked expression as the keys were tossed over the car’s top to him. The engine came to life as fiery, red sunlight carved through the lingering darkness of night and lit the road before them.

Run away, he’d said. Fame and fortune and anything Ichigo could ever want, he’d promised. He’d held Ichigo’s dreams in the palms of his hand, and he’d delivered so much more.

By their sixth bank, Grimmjow and Ichigo were wanted men. All the major cities across the country had resulted in putting up posters. Their pictures ran in every newspaper, flashed across every news channel on the television. They were plastered in banks, post offices, in storefronts. Local police worked with a team of special investigators that were assigned the specific task of finding the couple. Keeping their names out of the eye of the public was impossible. Rumor spread like wildfire, half of which were more true than officials were willing to admit. 

After months of hunting the two down and still unable to quite catch up, panic slowly began to spread. Law enforcement began enlisting the help of citizens. Any information on the couple was worth a reward. The people were cautioned against approaching them, but what made Grimmjow and Ichigo so dangerous was that they weren’t outright murderers. Oh they had a body count alright. But they killed more police than civilians and they only harmed those in their way. Even criminals had a code, after all. Instead, what made the duo so dangerous was their unpredictability, their charm, and their fast pace. They had a way of talking down the people around them, of promising things, anything, even while waving guns around and stealing right in front of eyes of those around them.

No one could figure them out. With six banks and countless smaller robberies under their belts, they surely had the money to flee, to hide and live comfortable lives anywhere they wanted to be. They could have left the country, crossed boarders to a pretty, quiet little beach side area. They could have retired young and lived in luxury. Yet they continued on and by all accounts, seemed to enjoy their exploits very much.

After identities had been confirmed months ago, following their first major heist, Ichigo’s father had been taken into custody. Of course he’d cooperated, but he had very little information on his son and the young man’s whereabouts. All he knew was what he heard in the papers and on the news, or the rumors running ramped in the streets. Isshin was still under the impression that all of it was Ichigo’s no good boyfriend’s doings, and maybe he was right, but whatever the case, Ichigo was in as much trouble as Grimmjow and all the newsreels of the two showed them both looking rather pleased with themselves, with each other. 

The father in Isshin was glad for that much at least, that his boy seemed happy. He began to realize that Ichigo might as well enjoy his freedom and the life he’d chosen while he could, because nothing good ever came of running on the wrong side of the law.

His last correspondence from his son had been early in Ichigo’s travels, before their first bank, Isshin assumed. He hadn’t known what the two were up to at the time. It hadn’t been a phone call or a text. It hadn’t been an email. All efforts to contact Ichigo in those ways had failed the day after he’d run away with his beloved. No, Isshin had received a two page handwritten letter from his boy telling him that Ichigo and Grimmjow were doing well and that he needn’t worry over their fates. They’d figured things out, the letter had assured, and Ichigo was happier now than any high-paying hospital position could ever make him.

The handwritten letter had come in a blank envelope with no return address. The stamp used to mail it had been boughten in Ichigo’s hometown, before he’d run away, giving the police that came to speak with Isshin nothing to go off of.

They quickly became so well known that stopping in major cities became impossible. Just driving through was a danger, so they only visited larger areas if they were planning on making another appearance in the evening news. Their story began spreading, being romanticized like these things often are. Curious, Ichigo bought the first book about them to make the best selling list. 

Since they were constantly on the move, long, boring drives marked most of their free time together. They made due, though, and while Grimmjow drove, Ichigo would lean the passenger seat back, prop his feet on the dashboard, and read the book aloud for them both to enjoy. Parts of it had been so wildly false and inaccurate that it was maddening, really, but he and Grimmjow had a good laugh over most of it. It was like reading a fairy tale; beautiful and wild and magic, but it was surreal and intense. It was passionate, like they were.

He only read it in the car, though. Because they’d never made it a point to hide their features from the media, their pictures were readily available and the cover was a portrait style photo of him and Grimmjow sharing a surprisingly tender moment. The original image had been zoomed in before being painted, obviously, and the gun in Grimmjow’s hand was cropped out while the backdrop of terrified people and the bank counter was obscured. But their faces were obvious on the cover, so when they would stop somewhere, Ichigo would fold the corner of the page they were on and tuck the closed book under his seat and out of sight.

Grimmjow always parked the car a few streets down from wherever they were going to be, just for safety measures. The car was growing as famous as they themselves were, and was recognizable, but in its popularity, the custom paint job was spreading too. More than a few people in black cars that had blue racing stripes had been falsely pulled over at gunpoint. The extra measure probably wasn’t all that important, but they played it safe anyway, careful about letting themselves be seen in the vicinity of their vehicle. Too many dots to connect all at one time for those that might recognize them.

And so it was the same on this afternoon as many others. The small diner on the edge of an equally small town had seen its fair share of travelers passing through, so when two road weary young men walked in, no one thought anything of it. It was a quaint little place with a row of windows facing the road, a counter near the back of the house and three or four rows of booths for patrons. The tile flooring was faded with age but clean and the registers all looked like they were do for an update in technology.

These were the only kinds of places Grimmjow and Ichigo ever stopped at without harboring ill intents. They took one look around and knew it wouldn’t have been worth their time. Not a word said between them, they both agreed it would just be lunch today.

A middle aged woman greeted them with menus in hand and showed them to the dining room area, leading them toward a table near the front.

“Some place quiet and out of the way, if it’s not too much trouble.” Ichigo mentioned politely as they walked.

She smiled back at him and steered them through a row of tables and toward the back, away from the wall of windows at the front of the restaurant. They slid into a nice little corner booth tucked away near the very back wall, side by side. Laying the menus out before them, the host bid them to enjoy their meal and promised that a waitress would be by shortly, then left the two to themselves.

A moment later, a young lady approached their table. The waitress greeted them with a friendly enough smile and asked, “What can I get you two to drink?”

“Coffee.” Was Grimmjow’s immediate answer, glancing down at the menu.

“Black.” Ichigo told the waitress for him, before ordering his own drink. “And I’ll just have a water, please.”

“Of course.” The waitress gave them a curious look, then hurried off to fulfill the drink orders while she let her customers look over the menus. In the few minutes it took her, the couple had made their decisions and she jotted down their orders as they spoke them. She hesitated when they were finished though, and seemingly looked the two over again with a thoughtful glance.

At his side, Ichigo felt Grimmjow go rigid and he eased his hand against the bigger man’s, a silent ‘easy…’ as they waited to see what, if anything, would happen.

“You two look so familiar.” The young lady finally admitted.

“Do we?” Ichigo half laughed it off, like nothing was wrong, “We’re not from around here, so I don’t think you could possibly know us.”

There was still a thoughtful expression on the girl’s features and Ichigo fidgeted slightly, wishing he could politely tell her to leave them alone without drawing any more attention to them than necessary, but being rude was a sure way to get her talking about them to the people she worked with. It would have been unfortunate for someone to identify them as who they really were.

“Are you certain I haven’t seen you before?” Then she let out a surprised “Oh!” like it had come to her and both men internally cringed, fearing the worst. “A television show, maybe?”

Grimmjow barked a short, amused laugh and dropped one hand from the table’s top to rest on the seat beside him. The other he threw across the back of the bench, behind Ichigo’s head. It seemed like such a natural gesture as he leaned back and seemed to make himself comfortable, but Ichigo knew better. Grimmjow was still preparing for the worse; one hand to pull Ichigo down and out of harms way, one hand next to the gun hidden below his shirt tail.

“Something like that,” Grimmjow practically purred, his voice a rough but pleasant to listen to rumble.

“I knew it!” The waitress flashed them a wide smile, “You’re actors, of course you would look familiar. What show do-”

Grimmjow halted her with an upraised hand and a slight arching of blue brows. A sinful smirk on his features, he pressed a single finger to his lips in a secretive, shushing way. “Shhh… We’re trying to have a nice, quiet lunch.” He explained, nodding a bit, “Keep it our little secret, and we’ll autograph something for you before we leave, wont we Ichi?”

“Uh, yeah, of course.”

“In a few years, they’ll sell for hundreds on ebay.” Grimmjow added, a devilish smirk on his features. “So what do you say? Keep it between the three of us, at least until we’re out the doors?”

“Ok.” The waitress nodded, her excitement obvious, and rushed off to fill their orders.

Ichigo turned on Grimmjow with a stern expression. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Did what? She would have figured out who we really are if she’d have pulled out her phone and did a little digging.” He shrugged and dropped his arm from the back of the seat to loop around Ichigo’s shoulders fondly. “Now she thinks she doesn’t have to and we’ll get to eat in peace.”

Ichigo sighed, but he could see the logic in Grimmjow’s reasoning. He leaned into his lover’s side and smiled a bit as he lifted one hand, running his fingertips across the length of Grimmjow’s jawline, traced the curve of his lips.

Grimmjow smiled below his fingers, “Love you, babe.”

“And I love you.”

A few minutes later, their waitress returned with their lunch. She dropped it off and made sure it looked alright. As she was leaving again, so that they could have their privacy, Grimmjow threw her a wink and watched as her features flushed bright red. 

At his side, Ichigo rolled his eyes and elbowed the bigger man. “Don’t break the poor girl’s heart, Grimm, she’ll be devastated when you don’t leave your name and number.” He grabbed a fry from Grimmjow’s plate, munching on it as he continued, “It’s mean enough to get her hopes up, thinking that we’re some rising celebrities or something.”

“Heh, we kind of are, aren’t we?” Grimmjow chuckled, “Just not in the sense she’s thinking.”

Ichigo stole another fry before turning to his own plate, “That’s just cruel.” He said around a bite, “You better tip well, since those autographs aren’t happening.”

At that, Grimmjow really did laugh. “Aw, c’mon, we can still sign something for her.”

Ichigo turned to him sharply, an orange brow arched in skepticism.

“What? Why shouldn’t we? It’s fun.”

A half hour later, after the bill had been dropped off and they’d finished, Grimmjow signed his name on the back of a napkin and passed it to Ichigo. The smaller looked down at it, genuinely surprised to see that his partner had signed his real name and hadn’t chosen some fake alias for the girl to go home and look up. With a shrug, he signed his name too and wrote a quick thank you for the peaceful lunch. Then they left.

It wouldn’t be until hours later, after the familiar looking couple from the diner was long gone and the waitress was off work that she would learn who she’d really run into that day. A quick internet search at home that evening brought up police records and wanted posters that featured two handsome young men. She stared in shock, and wouldn’t call the police for several days, and only then because her coworkers had found out what had happened and convinced her it needed to be done.

They’d been so polite, she told the police, nothing like the murderers and criminals you found on television and in movies. They hadn’t seemed like bad guys at all. By then, the two had put mile upon mile between them and the diner.

The incident caused a new kind of panic to spread through the general populace. Criminals were supposed to be mean, ugly creatures. Bad guys were supposed to look like monsters while the good guys wore shining armor. It was supposed to be clean cut and clear, but with Grimmjow and Ichigo, that wasn’t the case. As horrible as the things they’d done were, they weren’t the monsters the media tried to paint them as, they were people and the more widely known they became, the harder it was for officials to dehumanize them.

They’d crossed a line and now anyone could be killers, monsters. Anyone could be evil and crooked and wrong. The public demanded action, but the police couldn’t punish who they couldn’t catch, so people began taking matters into their own hands. Towns appointed watches and patrols and posses. That was when things truly began to get messy. If monsters could look like normal people, than it stood to reason that the reverse was also possible. Normal people took up arms. Normal people became every bit the enemy that law enforcers were. Until then, Grimmjow and Ichigo had done what they could to keep innocent people from being harmed, but the first time a citizen pulled a gun on them, that changed.

They’d been in a medium sized town with a modest but not small population. The iconic vehicle rolled into town with the setting sun, harsh streaks of orange and red light glinting off the paint job. Intending to continue straight through, neither had put much thought into driving through the middle of town. Half asleep in the passenger seat, the hint of a smile pulled at Ichigo’s lips as he heard Grimmjow switch the radio on. His favorite sound in all the world was the sound of his lover absently humming or singing along with whatever song happened to be playing.

That evening, there were no sirens to act as warning, no shouted orders. The first shotgun slug to punch through the car’s body sounded like thunder in the calm, darkening sky. Grimmjow jerked the wheel, letting out a surprised curse. Ichigo jolted further upright, awake in an instant. The next bullet shattered the back windshield and both men ducked instinctively. Grimmjow hit the gas, squealing tires, even as hot lead carved a shallow furrow through his shoulder and embedded in the dashboard in front of him. He hissed a pained sound and shifted gears.

“Grimmjow!” With wide eyes, Ichigo twisted in his seat to face behind them, gun in hand, but they were already speeding away from the shooter and chaos made him hesitate while trying to aim. 

“I’m fine, stay down.” Grimmjow growled out, yanking the wheel to turn the car down a different street, putting buildings between them and the armed citizen.

They left town with all haste but it wouldn’t be the last angry citizen they met, nor the last close call. If the police couldn’t protect them, then the citizens would do it themselves. Later that evening, in the dead of night, they broke into the connivance store of a neighboring town. Grimmjow grit his teeth as Ichigo used a brand new bottle of peroxide and paper towels to clean the dried blood from his arm.

“You really need stitches, love…” The smaller informed, grimacing as he pressed a wad of clean paper towel to the seeping wound. It wasn’t overly deep, the bullet had only grazed golden flesh, but it was still more than just a scratch.

“Not gonna happen.” Grimmjow cringed as gauze from the first aid isle was wrapped tightly around his upper arm.

“Yeah…” Ichigo sighed under his breath, “I know.” Working by the light of a row of glass fronted refrigerators that held booze and energy drinks, he taped off the gauze, smoothing it flat before he eased his weight against Grimmjow’s front. Strong arms lifted to make room for him, then wrapped around him like armor. “This isn’t going to be an isolated event…” He mumbled against Grimmjow’s chest.

“I know.” Grimmjow rested his chin atop Ichigo’s head and was quiet for a long moment. As if what they were doing hadn’t been dangerous enough before, from then on out, it would be more so. Police were predictable, they were routine and they stood out. Mobs were not. Upset civilians were crazy, they were unpredictable, and they looked like everyone else. “Ichigo, I made you a promise, and I’ll keep to my word. Even if you decide this gets to be too much, all you gotta do is say the word.”

It had been mentioned before, and Ichigo told him the same thing this time as he had the last time Grimmjow had offered to take the blame, should his partner ever decide he wanted out. “You’re insane.” Ichigo chuckled where he sat, half in Grimmjow’s lap, “All of this is, but we’re in it together and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

A smirk spread wide across handsome features and Grimmjow hooked long fingers under his lover’s chin, titling back Ichigo’s head. “Must be that black magic I warned you about.” 

“Must be.” Ichigo agreed, and pressed himself up into the waiting kiss.

The car was fixed the next day at a dirty, overpriced mechanic shop by a greasy worker with low standards. The work he did was good enough though, and enough cash kept him from asking too many questions about the bullet holes and broken window. As far as the mechanic was concerned, it had just been some overzealous teenage punk with his daddy’s hunting rifle. Grimmjow and Ichigo told him that sounded just about right.

Expecting the man would probably open his mouth at some point, despite paying him off, the two wasted no time in disappearing. They’d always known this would be a possibility, if not an eventuality. There were consequences to everything, and even if they hadn’t really put much thought into it in the beginning, over time, they’d both realized how deep they’d gotten. They’d crossed that line, and there was no going back now, there was only forging ahead, moving forward. There was only doing what made them feel alive, and doing it together. There was only them, high on life, young and in love.

Their last bank heist, after a dozen or so before it, should have acted as warning. They should have called it quits, taken their fortune with them, and disappeared. It wouldn’t have been hard, with that kind of cash, but they were untouchable and the world was at their feet. Or so it seemed. There wouldn’t be time to reflect upon it, though.

It was the middle of winter by then, long after they’d run away together but not nearly long enough. The midday sun was warm overhead, but roiling storm clouds darkened the horizons. They were in a region that wouldn’t likely get much snow, if any, but breaths fogged the air before their features and the chill tried to seep through thick, warm coats.

“We should hibernate.” Grimmjow mused, the statement half grumbled as he stuffed cold fingers into his pockets to warm them. There was a smirk on his face though, and Ichigo chuckled, almost willing to agree.

“You would get bored after the first few days.” He pointed out as they walked side by side down the street. People bustled around them, hunkered down beneath warm clothing. They were paid very little attention, which was just as well.

Grimmjow grunted a laugh, and paused to pull the heavy doors of their destination open. As usual, they were walking right in through the front entrance. Holding the door, he stepped aside and let his lover proceed him. “Yeah, you’re probably right… I’d go stir crazy and it would be up to you to keep me entertained.”

Ichigo scoffed, glancing at his partner as the two waded their way toward the front counter with casual ease, like nothing was in the works. “I promise you it wouldn’t be as fun as you’re thinking.”

“C’mon, Ichi, it’d be fun for you too.” Blue eyes shone with mirth and easy banter, before sliding away from his partner. Sharpening and hardening, like a predator with an easy meal in sight, Grimmjow turned his crystalline gaze out around them. He took one sweeping assessment of the bank and it’s patrons, a mere handful of people and two tellers out front. Probably a few more in the back. They’d gone against worse odds.

He turned to an annoyed looking young man that stood behind the counter with a grin that suggested wit and cunning, and leaned close. “So here’s how things are going to work,” he started, completely shifting from light, teasing conversation to business in the span of a breath. He saw an amused but sharp smile take of his partner’s features as Ichigo shook his head a bit and turned to face the patrons of the bank. Continuing, Grimmjow went on, “My partner and I don’t want any trouble, but we’re not above it. Keep this quick, quiet and easy, and no one’s gotta get hurt.”

The young man frowned his confusion and disapproval, before it seemed to click and his eyes widened behind thick frames. 

Grimmjow tilted his head a bit and grinned, “Now you’re catching on.”

“You wont get away with this…” The teller said lowly, flattening his hands on the counter before him. As of yet, the criminals he was faced with hadn’t announced themselves to the rest of the patrons, which kept panic to a minimal and made it less likely for anyone to get hurt, so he kept his tone and his outrage quiet.

“Well actually,” Ichigo quipped, leaning back against the counter his partner had been speaking over. Still he faced those around them, his arms crossed in a relaxed way. His hands were empty, but it was naive to think he wasn’t armed and ready. “I think we will. You recognize us, right? So you know we’ve got an excellent track record.”

“So you’re gonna lead me back there, like nothing’s happening, you hear? Ichi here’s going to stay upfront with your customers.” Grimmjow picked up where Ichigo left off, “And since it’s your civil duty to keep these innocent people safe, you’re going to do it quickly, or” and he motioned between Ichigo and himself with his thumb, “one of us is going to get trigger happy. Lucky for your patrons, Ichigo’s pretty easy going. Not so lucky for you, I’m not.”

His last words were a growl and the bank teller swallowed nervously, his eyes wide. He stepped back from the counter, flinched at the way a single blue brow arched skeptically, than motioned with his hand toward the low gate that lead around the counter, “R-right this way, Mr….”

“Jaegerjaquez.” Grimmjow all but purred, and pushed the half height gate out of his way.

“Mr. Jaegerjaquez.” The bank teller repeated, a nervous expression pushing through his forced politeness.

Grimmjow sent Ichigo a quick look and a smirk, “See ya on the other side, babe.”

A subtle nod and smile was his answer, “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Then the two disappeared down a hallway and deeper into the bank. Ichigo was left to stand guard in the lobby area alone. It should have been an easy task, considering no one really knew what was going on just yet. 

Murmurs and protests had started up when he and Grimmjow had entered, only to push their way through the small crowd of waiting patrons. Comments, some muttered under breaths and others spoken aloud, about cutting in line and fairness and rules and all things that meant very little to Grimmjow and Ichigo. Most of the few patrons now eyed Ichigo unhappily.

Brown eyes narrowed a bit, as Ichigo straightened away from the counter he’d been leaning on. All the extra attention focused his way put him on edge. He and Grimmjow were very recognizable after all, it was only a matter of time before someone placed who they were.

Grimmjow had already made his way into the vault when the first signs of trouble cropped up. His host, the young bank teller, tried to sneak off after showing him the way, and so Grimmjow now had the man on his knees in the middle of the vault, a wad of cash shoved into his mouth to shut him up and a zip tie cutting the circulation off to his hands.

Busy filling their black canvas bag with cash, he paused and frowned as noise from down the hall made its way into the vault with him. Briefly glancing at his audience, Grimmjow rumbled a small sound and prepared to go back to his business when a much louder commotion erupted; the clattering of metal on tile and a dull but resounding thud. He only waited long enough to realize Ichigo’s voice wasn’t addressing the apparently rowdy crowd, before tugging the drawstring on the bag tight and darting from the vault.

Sprinting down the hall and around the corner, gun in hand, he found Ichigo half shoved against the counter that separated the guests from the employees. Ichigo’s hand was held in a telling way over his brow and a look of dazed discomfort pinched his features.

Grimmjow leveled his weapon and fired just as who he assumed to be the person responsible for his lover’s injury stepped up and fisted hands in the back of Ichigo’s jacket. Rage twisted the civilian’s features, but it couldn’t match Grimmjow’s and it was quickly replaced by surprise as the echo from the gunshot died away. The man released Ichigo and crumpled to the ground and Grimmjow growled as he rounded the counter to approach his partner.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Another person was making a grab for the dropped gun. Without thought, Grimmjow reaimed and fired again, killing the threat to himself and Ichigo. Kicking the dropped gun closer to wear Ichigo was working on getting his feet under him and regaining his balance, Grimmjow moved to his lover’s side. There was nothing but concern in his voice, even as he kept his gun up and trained in the direction of those around them. “Ichi? You alright?” He asked, dropping the bag beside him so that he could free up his hand to guid Ichigo to him.

The smaller winced, but allowed himself to be pulled against his companion’s solid form. He hissed a breath as he pulled his hand away from his head to find blood smearing his fingers, then immediately push it right back against the gash near his hairline. “Yeah…” He assured, the fingers of his free hand tangling in Grimmjow’s shirt below his coat. “A little dizzy, but I’m fine.”

“What happened?” Blue eyes coasted over the remaining patrons around them. Fear and loathing stared back at him.

“Uh, the uh…” Ichigo paused, head throbbing with his pulse, “The counter,” He finally explained, pointing, “I didn’t get my gun out quick enough after they figured out who we are and the guy jumped me.”

Grimmjow grunted an unamused sound, lip curling a bit, “Well their stupidity got them killed.” He said, nice and loud for the remaining patrons to hear. He and Ichigo weren’t new to killing, he wanted them to know that. “You good to get moving, babe?”

“Yeah, I’m alright, just caught me off guard.” Ichigo pulled away from Grimmjow’s side, a touch of a smile on his lips as he felt the way the supporting arm around his back hesitated in letting him go. Ever protective and possessive of him, was Grimmjow. The bigger man had promised to never leave him, never let him go, and even after all they’d done and how far they’d strayed, he still kept that promise. They were ever side by side.

Loyal to a fault, Ichigo had told him once.

Black magic, he’d replied with that sinful grin on his handsome face.

Black magic, Ichigo had agreed.

“Alright, grab your gun, then, and lets get outta here.” Grimmjow directed him, motioning toward where the weapon had slid up against the counter at their backs. He left the bank teller tied up in the vault and two bodies in the lobby. Later, it would be said by the media that this particular incident showed an almost uncharacteristic rise is cruelty by the robbers. The remorseless way they’d disposed of the people in their way supposedly showed how much more violent the unpredictable couple was growing as they terrorized the country. What the media failed to report on was that the two had been provoked before taking counter measures. They had only been feeding the public outcry.

Ichigo bent to retrieve his gun and grabbed the bag of cash too. He loaded the chamber of his weapon and removed the safety as he straightened and rejoined Grimmjow. Together they made their escape and with so few people in the bank, it was an easy thing to do.

Once out of sight and back at their waiting car, Ichigo tossed the bag of cash into the backseat and straightened as Grimmjow came up behind him. Turning to the bigger man, he looked up at his partner and sighed at the expression being directed at him.

There was something stern and chastising in Grimmjow’s gaze to be sure, but there was also a flood of concern. Big hands reached up to frame his features and tilt his head a bit, before one moved to brush the thick orange strands of Ichigo’s bangs out of the way.

Blood still dripped down the side of his features, but the skin there was thin and head wounds, even when shallow and of little worry, tended to bleed freely. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Ichigo assured, his voice quiet.

Grimmjow frowned and smoothed his thumb carefully over the darkening skin around the gash, “You’re going to have one nasty bruise in the morning,” then he rested his forehead against his lover’s and smiled a bit.

Ichigo smiled back.

They should have left well enough alone.

Not even a week later, all the enemies they’d made caught up to them. Not even a week later, all the luck they’d had ran out. Three days after their last bank heist when normal citizens proved they were willing to die in order to stop the two, in the early morning, the reality of the world they lived in caught up to them. They say the good die young, and most people translate that to mean the traditional definition of good, of heroic and righteous, but what Grimmjow and Ichigo had was good. To each other, they were good, and not just good people, but they were truly kind to one another. They treated each other right, they took care of each other. What they had was good.

But the good die young and that’s the tragedy of it all.

It wasn’t a run-in with long overdue justice. The law wasn’t involved. There was no fair warning, no demand for surrender. There was no trial or jail cells. When desperate enough, people do crazy things. Grimmjow’s and Ichigo’s faits were dealt by the hands of normal, everyday citizens.

The morning was still young, sun hanging crisp in the cool sky. It cast a bright, almost cheery light between tall buildings to splash streets in golden light. The way ahead looked like a painting. The glass windows of towering, city buildings reflected gold with the sun and the road seemed to yawn out forever and ever in an endless, open stretch of freedom. That’s what it had all been about, really. They’d run away, made a life for themselves that no one else could control. They’d left behind all the chains and the walls that had circled round them before. They’d kept the promise they’d made to each other, a promise to the stars. That’s what it had all been about, should anyone have asked; freedom and each other.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Ichigo leaned his elbow on the door and rested his head in his hands, messaging at his temples. His pulse was a dull, throbbing ache in his skull. It made the bruising near his hairline feel all the more tender.

In the drivers seat, Grimmjow frowned, glancing between the road and his partner. “Are you sure?” He asked, his deep voice full of skeptical concern.

“I’m sure.” Ichigo sighed, “It’s a headache, not a concussion.”

Grimmjow absently reached to the dash and shut the already quiet radio off. “Isn’t that a side effect of a concussion?”

“It can be, but-”

“Then how do you know?” Grimmjow cut him off, frowning all the harder. The city around them seemed quiet, peaceful. People bustled back and forth on the sidewalks, but it was all with the rushed, half asleep quality of a chilly, winter morning.

“Because I have a PhD?” Ichigo sighed again, but this time it wasn’t really as exasperated or annoyed as before. He shook his head a bit, and pulled it from his hand to lean back in his seat and look over at his lover, “Even if it was a mild concussion, a doctor would only send me home with instructions to rest and be careful.” There was a smile in his voice as he added, “Quit worrying about me. I’m fine.”

Grimmjow sent him a stern look, but a moment later he chuckled a sinful sound and dropped the subject. Turning back to the road, he smirked a pleased expression and asked, “So where should we head next?”

“Hmm.” Ichigo tipped his head back, like the sky he couldn’t actually see might hold the answers. “Someplace warm.”

His partner nodded and laughed. “South, then.”

Ichigo smiled and propped his chin in his hand, watching the city go by outside.

It’d been such a pretty idea. Run away, he’d said, somewhere far far away where they could be anyone or anything. The stars called to them, but they’d never leave each other’s sides. They’d promised, and they’d both known it for truth.

It came from no where, with no warning. The city they were leaving behind would be the last place they ever saw, there on a cold morning with a bright sky. They’d made enemies, you see. Wanted men, by the law and by those the law was supposed to protect.

The first shot was the most devastating, really, in both long term and short. The car an unarmored one and the bullet fired from close range, it ripped right through the driver door. The next one shattered the driver side back window. From then, everything was chaos. But that first bullet was the very beginning of their last stand, because when it went through the door, it next punched between Grimmjow’s ribs as he drove.

In the hail of gunfire, Ichigo dragged his handgun from under the seat, keeping as low as he could. Beside him, the man he loved fought hard for that next, stunned breath. The sound that bubble from Grimmjow’s throat was rough and shocked and agonized. His hands shook, white knuckled on the steering wheel as blood welled through the tear in his flesh, but he met Ichigo’s horrified gaze for a split second.

That moment seemed like an eternity and both knew, in that instant, that they were in trouble.

With weakened motions, Grimmjow shifted into the next gear as a spray of lead tore down the side of the car. Tires screeched, gears grinding. The gunfire was deafening, but the screams of unsuspecting people in the nearby area echoed between buildings and down the street.

Grimmjow cursed, tasting blood in his mouth. Ichigo turned in his seat and even though it was merely a handgun he held, managed to eliminate at least one of the gunmen firing at them as they flew by.

The posse of enraged citizens wouldn’t be deterred so easily though, not when they finally had the two infamous men on the run.

“C-car behind us.” Grimmjow grit out through red stained teeth, his blue eyes too clear for the pain he was in. Adrenaline did a lot to keep him going. His gaze flickered to the rearview mirror, watching as an SUV screeched into the intersection they’d just blew past. 

Ichigo ducked, letting out a small startled sound as more gunfire shattered the back window. A bullet tore through the seat, just barely missed him, and lodged into the dash. With an angered curse, he straightened and opened fire on the vehicle tailing them. Somewhere in the chaos, he had to reload. Hot shells riddled their once pristine car. A blown out tire made keeping the car steady difficult. The smell of gun smoke and melted, singed cloth was heavy in the car.

Despite everything, during the entire eight minute car chase, Ichigo’s attention remained split between what was going on around them, and his injured lover in the driver seat. In the back of his mind, all his medical training kicked in, telling him how to stop the bleeding, how to bind the wound under Grimmjow’s arm. How to save the life of the man he cared most about.

The last thing Ichigo heard before the chase was over was Grimmjow’s deep voice growling out a curse, than the crunch of metal and the shattering of glass. Facing behind them, he didn’t see it coming.

Sitting half hunched over behind the steering wheel, Grimmjow chanted curses under his breath. It was all he seemed able to manage. Fire lit his torso and though he said nothing, he was positive he’d taken another bullet, straight through the seat he sat in. The smell of his own blood was thick in his senses, cloying and heady. It seemed burning hot against his skin and made his clothing stick to his body. His fingers felt weak around the steering wheel, despite his white knuckled grip. He didn’t have Ichigo’s medical knowledge, but he knew a fatal gunshot wound when he saw one. Something important must have been damaged.

He tried to give warning, tried to call Ichigo’s name, but choked on the first syllable. Then, going too fast to stop, they went straight through the next intersection and right into oncoming traffic. The car came in from Ichigo’s side, and slammed right into the passenger side. Both were thrown forward. Grimmjow lost sight of his partner as his vision whited out.

It only took him a few seconds to piece together what had happened, what was happening. The horn of the car that had hit them was a dull, constant noise in the background. It seemed so far away. The effort it took to push himself away from the dashboard and back upright in his seat seemed monumental, but as he did, Grimmjow groaned a pained, dazed sound, and let his gaze roll toward the empty passenger seat.

Ice slid down his spine and he stared at where Ichigo should have been sitting next to him. But he wasn’t, he wasn’t there and the passenger door was still shut and panic rose like bile in Grimmjow’s mouth. His breathing came at an uneven, panicked pace as he fumbled with his seatbelt with trembling fingers. “Ichigo?” He half yelled. His own voice sounded distant to him. Then his eyes landed on the shattered windshield and he choked, as much on his fear as the blood slicking his throat.

The driver door screeched painfully, like a dying thing, as he forced it open. Nearly dropping to his knees when he tried to stand, Grimmjow had to use the crinkled hood to pull himself upright. He found Ichigo almost a dozen feet in front of the car, laying too still on the blacktop in the middle of the road.

It was like there was a barrier around them, around the accident. Nothing moved, no one dared draw near. It was like they were gone, somewhere else, like it was just Grimmjow and Ichigo in the middle of the intersection. All noise fell away completely as Grimmjow forced himself into motion.

“Babe…?”

There should have been sirens, the shocked whispers and shouts of people. There should have been noise but it all fell away. There was nothing but a dull hum in the back of Grimmjow’s mind.

“Ichigo?” 

His own labored breathing was loud in his ears, but he couldn’t concentrate on it. The half a dozen strides it took to cross the space between them seemed like a mile. Grimmjow dropped to his knees at his partner’s side, panting like he’d just run a marathon to get there. With the hot lead burning in his lungs, he might as well have.

The car was a mess somewhere behind him, riddled with bullet holes and thrown up against the vehicle that had slammed into them. The engine smoked under the ruined, crinkled hood, the windshield was shattered along with the rest of the glass. The smell of burning rubber and gun smoke hung heavy in the air like a thick cloud.

“Ichi…” His hands trembled as they settled gently, carefully along bruising features. The gash near Ichigo’s hairline had reopened. Blood dripped lazily to follow the curve of Grimmjow’s fingers.

Ichigo groaned as he started to come around. Trying to sit up, he cringed, a pained sound slipping passed dry, parted lips. He only managed it with Grimmjow’s help on the second try. It hadn’t quite registered yet, that nothing was really working properly.

“Ichigo?” Grimmjow asked again. The worry was obvious in his voice, despite the unhealthy breathlessness to his normally rumbling tone. “You ok?”

“I’m fine…” Ichigo breathed and he knew it was a lie this time. Something about that truly pained him. Never had he lied to this man, never had he a reason to. His chest was tight, constricting around his lungs. They were both in bad shape. His brown eyes cast around them, at the crowd that very slowly gathered nearby, fearful to draw too near. At the flash of lights finally beginning to gather not so far in the distance. His gaze fell back on his lover again. His features fell and he froze, devastated, for a short moment before sorrow swirled openly in brown eyes. The revelation in his words hurt even before they left his tongue, “But you’re not…”

Grimmjow tried to grin, tried to laugh it off. He coughed instead as blood pooled in the back of his throat. The sound was weak, breathless but obviously painful. Hot liquid trickled from the corner of his lips. More stained his front, so thick the burned tears in his shirt caused by hot lead were nearly hidden, almost impossible to see. At Ichigo’s side, he was barely bracing his weight with trembling, strengthless arms. His damaged chest heaved with the effort to find air. “Nah…” He managed, “T-think this is it for me, babe.”

“Don’t say that…” Whispered, the words were quiet, but Ichigo could see the truth of what Grimmjow said. He reached up and settled his hand along smooth, tan skin, ran his fingers down Grimmjow’s neck, till his palm settled on the bigger man’s chest so that he could feel the frantic, desperate beat of his heart. His smile was watery at best, but it was there. “Lay with me.” One last time, the way they used to on clear nights.

Grimmjow understood. He nodded, and didn’t even bother to ask his lover to attempt repositioning where he sat hunched over on the hard blacktop. His wounds were as obvious as Grimmjow’s own. The awkward way he held one leg and the off balanced way he sat said enough. With the last of his strength, Grimmjow forced himself to move. He didn’t stand, didn’t even make it to his knees. His arms shook as he dropped to the ground, but it was close enough. Between Ichigo’s splayed legs, he rolled over, rested his heavy head upon his partner’s leg, near Ichigo’s hip. 

Laying on his back, he could hardly breathe. His mouth tasted of blood and it was all he could do not to lay gasping for air that wouldn’t reach his lungs. But it didn’t matter. He was finished and the hand that found his hair was comforting, soothing. Long, elegant fingers were gentle as they coasted through blue strands. Blinking, he tried to focus his vision on the man hovering over him.

This was comforting, just like this, with no walls in sight and nothing but Ichigo and the open sky to occupy his attention. It was almost like laying on the rooftop again, or parking on a dusty, abandoned road and cuddling up on the hood of his car. It was early morning and the sun was bright overhead, but Grimmjow thought maybe he could see the stars anyway.

Ichigo smiled down at his dying lover, the expression gentle and soft. Sorrow swirled in his eyes, tears threatening to blur his vision. He refused to let them fall though, even when Grimmjow’s previous uneven but deep breaths turned light, shallow. He took a deep, fortifying breath of his own, clamped down tightly on the tears trying desperately to spill over, and continued to smile, despite the tremble to his lips. Settling his hand along handsome, paling features, he brushed his thumb along Grimmjow’s lower lip, clearing some of the blood away. Still looking up at him, though slowly loosing the determined focus, there were no tears to be found in blue eyes.

“We h-had a good run.” Grimmjow forced out on his labored, shallow exhales, one corner of red stained lips tilting upward. He reached up, head tilted back to look up at the man who’s lap he was cradled in. His fingertips found Ichigo’s lips, traced oh so gently what he didn’t have the strength to kiss, before falling to weakly fist in the hem of Ichigo’s shirt, near where his head rested. Hurt showed in his gaze, but so did love and passion so fierce that it nearly burned even as it began to cloud over.

“We did…” Still forcing that soft smile, Ichigo nodded, swallowing. There were shouts, orders, from somewhere off to his left. Police, he knew, armed and ready to swoop in if he didn’t comply. He paid them no mind, all his attention on his dying lover. “I wouldn’t change it for the world, Grimm, none of it.” 

The chuckle that escaped Grimmjow forced more blood from his throat. He choked on it, coughing weakly for a moment and it was all Ichigo could do not to break down right then. 

Then, jaw set tight, Ichigo whispered, “I’ll see you again soon…”

The fingers of the hand not cradling Grimmjow’s features inched across gritty blacktop, brushing the cool metal of the barrel of his dropped gun.

Grimmjow didn’t catch the motion, hardly even able to focus on Ichigo’s features so close to his own, but he understood well enough his partner’s meaning. This man was everything to him, how could he not understand what those words meant? He swallowed the thick, cloying blood in his mouth, and shook his head a bit. He couldn’t force words free, didn’t have the strength left as he bled out on the pavement, but this time, pretty words weren’t needed.

The furrowing of blue brows tugged at Ichigo’s heart, making his chest feel that much tighter. “It’s ok…It’s ok…” He assured, words so soft he wasn’t even sure Grimmjow would hear him. “Not without you-” He shook his head a bit, words clipped as his throat constricted with his sorrow, his loss, “Even if I could get away… I can’t… I don’t want to…not without you…”

The frown marring handsome features lifted and maybe it was because he was so near death that he didn’t push the matter, but Grimmjow managed a small smirk, an even smaller nod. “G-guess…I’ll see you on the other s-si-” His final word was a sigh as Grimmjow exhaled his last breath. The weight of his head fell against Ichigo’s cradling hand and his fingers went slack, his grip upon his lover’s clothing failing in death.

The first tear finally streaked down Ichigo’s features. It dripped from his pointed chin to wet Grimmjow’s hair. Fingers finally closing around the trigger of his gun, Ichigo bent over Grimmjow’s body in grief so pure it shook his entire frame, buried his tear streaked features against the man’s chest, and cried as the weight of the gun settled in his hand. His last words were whispered, a promise meant only for his dead lover, “I wont keep you waiting…”

Run away, he’d said, somewhere far far away. 

Ichigo had been so in love.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
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